


After The War

by Ghost_Writing



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: After the battle of Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medical, Minor Violence, One Shot, Other, Post-Canon, Reader is gender neutral, Song: In Our Bedroom After the War (Stars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:47:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28709166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_Writing/pseuds/Ghost_Writing
Summary: Things never really go as planned... you never expected to be responsible for the twins after the battle. You never expected your crush to be anything more than a crush.Reader is Gender Neutral!
Relationships: Fred Weasley & George Weasley & Reader, Fred Weasley/George Weasley/Reader, Fred Weasley/Reader, George Weasley/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72





	After The War

Things never really go as planned, or so you’ve told yourself time and time again. They’ll be fine. Maybe Voldemort won’t even show up. Maybe he’s still dead. Maybe-

Your thoughts are cut through by your superior’s voice, bringing you back down to Earth. You stand in one of the best hospitals in the wizarding world. You’d been sent here to assist after the events that will unfold at Hogwarts, barely in your last year and you were one of the tops of your class, nearly a perfect. You’d been assigned to the trauma unit, now patiently standing in a line in front of the fireplace, watching your superior-pace back and forth. 

You knew she was worrying about McGonagall and everyone else, so were the other students from your year, and younger. You had only two thoughts on your mind, the Weasley Twins and their welfare. You’d passed by them on your way to the hospital, to your station, and the memory of the sullen faces was burned into your memory.

They’d left Hogwarts last year, they had been in your year. You had spent most of that year and the previous ones nursing a minor crush as they pestered you with pranks that they thought would be hilarious to try on any and every student. You were rarely a victim, but you had assisted with the care of countless victims. Somehow, your stupidity and kind Hufflepuff heart lead you to fall for the mischievous duo. 

Even though they rarely talked to you. Even though you were pretty sure they thought you were invisible. 

You hadn’t even noticed you’d been drifting off until the room suddenly was illuminated by an unnatural light and before you stood a massive tabby cat, the disembodied voice of professor Mcgonagall calling out throughout the wing you currently occupied.

“Voldemort has fallen. We have won. The injured are coming. Be prepared, there are many. The worst comes first.” the words shake you down to your core. Injured? Worst? What happened?

You had very little time to stew in your thoughts before the fireplace roared to life with green flames and out stumbled far too many wizards and witches. You were pushed forwards in the line, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom all being pushed through first, taken by the most skilled healers until a rough shove to your back caused you to stumble into the path of one of the injured.

“I’m not taking them- look at him,” you heard two people behind you, making snide marks over whoever you’d been shoved towards.

“HELP HIM! PLEASE!” someone sobbed in front of you before you could even catch your balance. Looking up, you came face to face with a sobbing George, holding a limp Fred in his arms. You swallowed heavily.

“Follow- Follow me! Come on!” you quickly said, trying to force down your stutter as you directed him to one of the private rooms in the trauma wing.

He followed you like a lost dog, setting Fred down on the recently laundered bedsheets as you took out your wand to examine the poor boy. It felt as if time stood still in that room, with you listening carefully for a hint of a heartbeat or a breath from Fred, and George’s muffled sobs.

“Mr.Weasley, please can you try and be quiet? I need a heartbeat from him,” you whispered, putting on your best patient voice.

“He-he’s my brother. Please save him, please I can’t lose him,” George whimpers, clutching his brother’s hand. Thankfully though, a sympathetic smile gets him to cover his mouth with his hand.

The silence allows you to catch the faintest heartbeat from the poor boy. With haste, you turn around and grab materials to get his heartbeat steady once more, as well as scan for any major injuries.

“Doctor Y/L/N, do you need help in here?” the curious voice of one of your closest friends- Poppy- pokes her head into the room.

“Ah! Yes, please I need to stabilize him so I can figure out what’s wrong- Mr.Weasley, did you happen to see what he was hit with?” you ask, as Poppy makes her way to assist in your stabilization of Fred. She’d always been better with painkillers and stabilizing patients, where you’d been better with diagnosis and treatment. 

“I-I couldn’t save him… one moment and then the next- he- he…” George tries and helps, trailing off into a sobbing mess. 

You turn to Poppy, who nods her head to tell you that she has this. Rounding the bed, you grab a blanket and settle George into a nearby chair.

“It’s alright, just calm down and tell me what happened. No one is going to be mad if you couldn’t save him, because he’s alive,” you whisper, rubbing circles across his back. 

George sniffles, blowing his nose into a tissue. It gives you time to look him over and notice the severed ear on the side of his head, as well as all the different scrapes across his skin. With a quick flick of your wand, you run it over him to check if he has any damage across his body.

A few spells come up, septum Severus, a couple of minor spells, but nothing heavy comes up. Nothing like his brother.

“It was two… the damn death eaters were casting them- Cruciatus and Imperius, or something… from when we had Defense Against the Dark Arts, remember that class Y/N? Freddie used to love going to that class… you were always so good at healing spells when someone got hurt,” George babbled through a hiccuping voice. If you had let your feelings get the better of you, you would’ve forgotten the two Unforgiveables he spoke, instead of your excellent ears, as well as Poppy’s, caught them.

“Thank you, Mr.Weasley, how many times was he hit?” you asked, attempting to remain professional as your heart fluttered from the fact he remembered your name, as well as remembering a face to the name. He remembered you.

“Twice-twice… both to stay still and bear the-the other one… the Cruciatus…” George whimpered, curling in on himself and wincing when he moved a broken leg awkwardly.

You nodded your head, trying to stay professional as the reality dawned upon you. You cast a quick healing spell over George, before turning to Poppy. 

“I need to get bandages for his leg- and fill in the Head that Death Eaters are using Unforgivables. There might be other patients hit by them.”

Poppy nods her head, understanding the severity.  
“I’ll get the bandages, you go tell the Head.”

“Alright, be back here in five. We need to get the curses from his system as soon as possible,” you hold your hand out, as Poppy reaches out to place hers over yours she speaks.

“I’ll get anything necessary for the treatment. See you soon, Y/N.”

You nod your head as Poppy runs off and down the hall, you’re about to go find the Head when someone grabs your arm. Turning around, George is off his feet, holding your wrist with his head bowed down.

“Please stay- I can’t- what if he wakes up and i can’t help him again? I don’t know any healing ones- I never needed them- Please, Y/N-”

“Mr.Weasley-” 

“George. The names George…” 

“I know your name, I was just being polite. George, I have a special job for you. Stay next to him, and if he wakes up, I want you to break this twig. It’ll let me know that you need help, and I’ll be right there,” you instruct him, handing him a small twig, “It’s a very important job, so make sure to pay attention. Okay?”

He takes the twig, clutching it in his hand as he lets your arm go.  
“Okay… I can do that. I can help him…” 

“Good, now go take a seat, and I’ll be back in five minutes. But this might save someone’s life, so I need to be quick,” you admit, giving him a small smile before darting off the hall to find the Head.

It is not hard to find the Head. He is quite busy going over reports from other trauma healers, rubbing his temples in frustration.  
“No… no… no! This can’t be right! They’re fine! So why are they-”

“Sir if I may, I might have your answer,” you state, hands down at your side as you wait. He turns his attention to you immediately, dark black hair tousled on his head as heavy circles lay under his eyes.

“Healer Y/L/N, what have you got? Don’t you have the Weasley Twins? Molly has been asking me over and over how they are-” he starts to ramble, so you cough to get him quiet to explain the situation.

“I have both twins, Fred is alive so you can tell Ms. Weasley as much. However, Death Eaters are using Unforgivables. Fred was hit by two Cruciatus’ and two Imperius’. We only found this out from his brother.”

The head nods his head frantically, writing down notes.  
“I see! This explains far more than I thought- Unforgiveables don’t come up in regular scans. Thank you Y/N, we will get right on this. You know what to use for his treatment?”

“Poppy’s gathering it right now. I gave George an alarm in case-” suddenly a tiny dragon flew around your head, puffing out smoke- “Fred’s up! I have to go! I don’t want him to- he’ll be in pain- I-”

“Go, I’m a healer, I know these things. Help your patient,” the head says with a kind smile as you run off, barely catching the last few words as you rush back to the twin’s room.

You’re barely at the door before the sound of whimpering mixed with sobbing meets your ears. Taking a deep breath you open the door to see Fred curled on his side as George desperately tries to comfort him. Muffles of pained words and near screams meet your ears as you close the door just in time for Poppy to return as well.

“I’ve got the Cruciatus-” you say, taking the stuff from here.

“I’ve got the Imperius-” she confirms, setting to work as well.

The two of you flank the bed, performing your separate jobs as Fred sobs in pain.

“Can’t you do anything for him?! He’s suffering!” George cries from the side of the bed where he’s clutching Fred’s hand.

“I’m sorry, we can’t until we finish. The charms will cancel one another out, so he needs the Unforgivables removed first, then he can have as much pain meds as he needs,” you calmly explain as you mix up the paste necessary for your charm while Poppy casts hers.

You feel George slump against your leg as you carefully spread the paste across Fred’s forehead and pulse points. There’s a small incantation, that sounds vaguely like a nursery rhyme that you recite. It’s calming every time you practice it and you can feel Fred stiffen as you slowly whisper. The energy drains from him and out into your wand, releasing him from the suffering as he collapses down. 

Poppy is right there with her pain charms, and before you can breathe out, Fred is fast asleep. A smile graces your lips as you pull the covers over Fred, a nurse poking her head into the room.

“Healer Poppy, you’re needed in the second trauma bay. Healer Y/L/N, you’re being requested by Ms. Molly Weasley. She’d like to know about her sons please.”

Nodding your head you have goodbye as Poppy ducks out.   
“Give me five minutes, I have to cast George’s leg.”

The nurse gives you a thumbs up and ducks out of the room. Leaving you alone with the two boys. 

“George, please sit in the chair. I need to check your leg,” you whisper quietly, causing the sleepy George to stir next to you.

He rubs his eyes as you help him over to the chair, wincing at every step. You sit down on the ground with the plaster and the skelegrow, rolling up his pant leg. Patiently, you cast a pain charm on him as you set the bone and wrap the cast around it. He shuffles in the chair, gripping the sides even as you go as carefully as possible.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” you mumble, holding the cast carefully to finish it. “What colour would you like?”

The last part must have startled him as he freezes for a moment, before stuttering out two colours.  
“Gold-gold and black.”

You nod your head, changing the tint of the cast to replicate the radiant gold of Gryfindor and the black of Hufflepuff. A small gasp and a shaking hand running across the plaster tells you that you had the right idea from his request.

Standing up before you forget yourself, you brush yourself off.  
“I’m going to go tell your family about you and Fred’s condition. Here is another twig, if I’m needed just break it. I won’t be gone for long though.” you pass him another twig, watching him cradle it gently. He nods his head.

Halfway to the door, you hear him say:  
“Thank you, Y/N. It means more than you know.”

Unsure how to respond, you smile as you disappear from the room. The words sticking with you down the hall to the waiting room. It lights a spark in your heart that you feed and cherish. Even if it was just a small spark.

When you finally reach the waiting room, you dust off your robes before entering. The majority of the Weasley family is there, sans those who had been injured in the battle. Molly is the first to rush up to you.

“There they are! That’s the doctor on George and Fred’s case! Please, how are they?” she asks, stopping in front of you as she wipes her face to clear the tears.

You offer out a handkerchief to her with a smile.  
“Both are doing far better than when they arrived. Fred has a steady pulse and is breathing on his own, currently asleep thanks to a pain-relief charm. George had his broken leg set, and his wounds healed over. They are both resting now, they should have a full recovery.”

When you finish your sentence, several pairs of arms wrap around you, squeezing you tightly as the family breathes a sigh of relief. You relax a bit, smiling until you are released.

“Thank you. Thank you for saving my boys,” Molly whispers, blowing her nose into a handkerchief.

“It’s my job. I had assistance as well if George had not remembered the Unforgiveables, then many of the patients here might’ve passed without our understanding-” 

“Indeed. Your boys are heroes Ma’am. They’ve saved nearly thirty-five and counting people, students and aurora’s alike,” the Head butts in, a hand on your shoulder.

Molly’s eyes go wide as the rest of the Weasley’s cheer and hug. You open your mouth to speak before a tiny dragon flies around your head.

“Ah, I should return to my patients. Can you handle this, Head?”

He nods and you start off back down the hall to return to the twins. Today has been eventful. Even for you. 

When you reach the room once more, you find someone has brought in a spare cot for George. He is now curled up across from his brother. He sits up as you enter.

“Did you call me?” you whisper, trying to keep quiet.

“He stirred… is that normal?” George whispers back, gesturing to his brother.

You smile and cross the room to check on Fred. He seems to still be fast asleep, so you nod your head.  
“He is still asleep. Give him time. Now sit up, I have something to give you,” you whisper, unscrewing the skelegrow.

He winces at the bottle.

“Consider it payback for all the times you’ve broken bones and they’ve wound up in my care,” you lecture, filling up a dose for him.

“Fair enough I guess, though that was always Fred’s idea. He wanted an excuse to come see you- shouldn’t have said that. Should not have said that.”

You raise an eyebrow as he downs the dose, grumbling at the taste.

“There are easier ways that winding up in the hospital wing,” you chuckle, shaking your head as you place down the cap.

There’s a long pause, awkward as you shift in the spot before going back to the door.

“Well, I’ll give you some privacy then, goodnight-” a hand grabbing yours stops you from going very far.

“Stay… please…?” a hoarse voice asks, catching your attention as you turn around to see a sleepy, drugged Fred holding your hand.

“You should be sleeping, is Poppy’s stuff not effective enough?” you ask, pressing your hand to his forehead. He isn’t running a fever, so at least that’s good.

“I’m… really tired…” Fred mumbles, curling back down on the bed and falling asleep in snores.

“He’s going to wake up all night… isn’t he,” you sigh, pulling the covers back over him and settling down in the chair.

“He’s always such a baby when he gets sick,” George jokes, passing you a blanket.

“You too, sleep as well. Heal your leg,” you lecture, taking the blanket.

“Whatever you say doc,” he chuckles as he curls back down. 

You take the time to watch the two of them sleep, setting a small alarm for their doses as you drift off as well.

Things never really go as planned.


End file.
